Hunting The Dragon
by Annclaire
Summary: Ronin Warriors/Dragon Ball Z/Gundam Wing- In a world of magic and mystery, a hunted, familiar lavender-haired dragon lord and his servant, Trowa, are being chased by three, well-known dragon slayers for his heart, a fabled, enormous ruby. *Shounen ai.*
1. The Dragon Lord and His Servant

Hunting The Dragon  
  
(Author's Notes: This is an AU crossover of Gundam Wing, Dragon Ball Z, and Ronin Warriors, set   
in a time of magic. Warning, there is yaoi in it, which means there are male/male relationships   
in it. Flame me all you want, my once loyal reviewers. I don't care. You'll have to deal with it.   
Well, enjoy the story! Ja! ~AC)  
  
Prologue-  
  
"It was a time of magic and mystery, when mermaids roamed the sea, and dragons truly existed. Ah,   
dragons," sighed the storyteller, his eyes brightening with wonder. "I remember dragons."  
  
"You've seen dragons?" piped up one of the children who sat circled around him. The   
storyteller chuckled softly in amusement.   
  
"Yes, young one. In fact, I knew one very well. He was a dragon lord." The children all   
sighed in wonder. Dragon lords still remained in fairy tales, of dragons who could take the form   
of a human.   
  
"Tell us a story about the dragon lord," begged the child who had spoken before, and   
instantly the other children clamored in.   
  
"Yes! Tell us of the dragon lord! Please, storyteller, please!" The man smiled gently   
down at them.   
  
"I will," was his reply, and the children grew silent as they waited for his words.   
  
"As I said, it was a time of magic and mystery, but alas, it was also a time when all   
magical beasts were hunted. And dragon lords most of all. For you see, when a dragon lord's   
heart was cut out, it took the form of a huge ruby, as red as blood and as large as an adult man.   
So men, called dragon slayers, hunted them.   
  
The dragon lord I knew was as handsome as they came, with long tresses of lavender, and   
piercing sapphire blue eyes that held the wisdom of a thousand years within them. For he was   
exactly that, over a thousand years old, almost two thousand, in fact, because, unlike mortal   
men, a hundred years was a mere year to them. Among his people, he was called   
T'ronku'ura'nak'kere'sa, but among humans, he was simply called Trunks. He held his lithe frame   
as would a royal king, and when he spoke, his soft, husky tone somehow managed to convey any   
emotion he wanted without changing expression. Then came the age of hunting, and Trunks, as were   
all his kind, was hunted. He fled with his human servant, a human called Trowa. Together they   
fled from the three dragon slayers who pursued them. Perhaps it was destiny that those three   
should be ones to chase after that certain dragon lord. Perhaps it was merely luck. I suppose I   
shall never know.  
  
But as it was, the three infamous dragon slayers were the ones to follow the fleeing   
dragon lord and servant, and fate was put into action. The weeks that fallowed would change the   
course of history."  
  
"How?" asked a little girl, her eyes round with curiosity. The storyteller smiled, and   
leaned forward to match the girl's wide-eyed stare eye for eye.   
  
"I shall tell you," he said softly, and began.  
  
  
Chapter One: The Dragon Lord and His Servant  
  
"We'd best continue on our way, sire." The soft words made the lavender-locked young man   
look up from washing his face in the stream. Water droplets glittered on his pale, lilac lashes   
as he dried his visage with a rag his servant handed him.  
  
"We should, Trowa," he said quietly in reply, his sapphire blue orbs flickering   
nervously towards the trees around them, as if their stalkers would leap out at them at any   
second. "And, as I have told you before, call me Trunks."  
  
The normally grim-faced servant smiled slightly, and bowed. "As you wish, sire Trunks." Trunks   
the Dragon Lord paused in wiping his face to roll his eyes towards the emerald-eyed man.   
  
"Very funny, but close enough, I suppose," he sighed, handing the rag back to Trowa, who   
accepted it silently. "Where should we head to now?"  
  
"I think I saw a sign that said there is a town nearby, milord," said the servant, rising   
to point the way left. Trunks nodded.   
  
"Then let us be off."  
  
"As you wish, milord." With that quiet reply, Trowa began to walk in the direction he   
himself had pointed. Trunks fell in step behind him, his eyes continuing to dart among the trees,   
seeking the enemy he knew was somewhere. Somewhere.   
  
The two arrived at the town of Yearlings in less than an hour, slipping into the place's busiest   
inn unnoticed.   
  
"Would you happen to have a room with two beds, fair mistress?" questioned Trowa, bowing   
towards the dark-haired beauty that stood behind the inn's register. The woman smiled in return,   
her dark, almost black, almond-shaped eyes twinkling.   
  
"Of course we do, dearie," she replied, inclining her head politely. "I'm Videl,   
innkeeper of this establishment. How long do you two plan to stay here?" Trowa and Trunks   
exchanged glances, and at last, Trunks spoke, his words quiet and sincere.   
  
"I know not, lady innkeeper. Perhaps a single night, perhaps two. I shall pay you in   
advance for both, just in case." Videl smiled at the obvious royalty presiding in her inn.   
  
"Thank you, milord. I'll have that room for you both in just one moment," she said, after   
Trunks had handed her the money, before disappearing up the stairs. Trunks let his eyes wander   
around the room.   
  
The inn was well kept, the main hall empty except for customers. To the right and through a   
doorway he saw a bar, which he ignored. Alcohol was deadly to all dragons, even dragon lords. To   
the left and through another door, was a small store where a smiling woman worked.   
  
"You two new 'round here?" a voice asked from behind them. Trunks and Trowa both turned,   
Trunks's hand instinctively going to the hilt of his sword.   
  
The man who had spoken raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Steady there, kids. I wasn't trying to   
rob you or anything. I simply asked a question." The dark azure-haired man crossed his muscular   
arms against his broad chest, waiting.  
  
"Yes, we're new around here," Trunks said, answering the man's earlier question. "Why do   
you ask?" The man smiled, his dark blue eyes lighting with a merry fire.   
  
"I'm Kento, the one who keeps all the troublemakers in line at this inn," he said. "I was   
asking because I make it my business to know newcomers. Have you two been traveling for long?"   
His eyes traveled down the two's obviously rich clothes of what had once been silk finery and   
such, but now were slightly ragged and dusty from their journeys.   
  
Trowa shrugged, but his companion said, "Only a couple weeks or so. Have you worked at the inn   
long?" Kento shook his head, a roguish smile forming on his lips.   
  
"I used to be a bouncer at the nearby tavern, but then I got a little... er, rough with   
some of the customers," he replied with his own shrug. Both of the travelers raised eyebrows, but   
neither said their private thoughts aloud. "Anyway, I wanted to warn you of something."   
Immediately, both dragon lord and servant tensed, Trunks's eyes once more flickering nervously   
for the door.   
  
"Warn us of what?" At last Trowa spoke, his words low and soft. Kento shrugged   
off-handedly.   
  
"You seem to carry a lot of money with you. I've already seen well-known thieves eyeing   
your purse. You'd best hide it," he stated calmly, but his right hand stroked the hilt of a long,   
cruel-looking dirk. "If you want, I'll take watch outside your door tonight and however long you   
stay here." Trunks relaxed slightly, although Trowa didn't.   
  
"We'd be thankful for your help and concern, sir," the dragon lord said softly. Kento   
grinned good-naturedly, his eyes twinkling.   
  
"Anything for a fellow wanderer," he said, then, his words so soft only Trunks heard them,   
and wasn't sure if he had heard correctly, "and fellow noble." Trunks blinked.   
  
"Sir?" Kento, however, grinned broadly, and shook his head.   
  
"Call me Kento, sir." Trunks pushed the questioning thoughts into the back of his mind,   
and replied.   
  
"If I call you Kento, you must call me..." He hesitated slightly, and then said his name   
with an almost daring sort of tone. "Trunks."   
  
"And I am Trowa," said his servant, emerald eyes rising from the floor to meet Kento's.   
  
"What, Kento? You've already befriended these two?" An amused voice stated, and the three   
turned to see Videl smiling at them. She extended a key towards Trowa, who was nearest. "Here is   
the key to your room, milord." Trunks nodded, bowing to her formally.   
  
"Thank you, milady. I'm sure it will suit us well," he said softly, and followed after   
his servant and new friend.   
  
That night, Trunks and Trowa slept easily, comfortable in their warm beds, a delight they hadn't   
enjoyed in the months since the Hunting had begun. While the two dreamed soundly, Kento sat   
outside the door, ever watchful, his dark blue eyes watching every shadow.   
  
The next day, however, Trunks and Trowa were rudely awakened by Kento's strangled yell.   
  
"Milord!" came the cry. "Flee!" Half awake, the two leapt to their feet, hands on their   
weapons as they raced for the door. Before they reached it, the door fell off its hinges with an   
explosive bang.   
  
"Damn!" Trunks cursed, before turning in half-run and racing towards the window before   
the attackers could see his face. Trowa followed quickly after. Without hesitation, Trunks threw   
himself through the glass window, ignoring the burning pain as shards of glass buried themselves   
into his flesh. The dragon lord fell silently three stories, and landed gracefully, continuing to   
run, his servant close behind, the light umber-haired man landing like a feline. They ignored the   
angry cries of their pursuers, fleeing into the dawning light as Kento's angry form blocked the   
shattered window from the three who stood before him.  
  
  
His eyes hard and cold, the dark-haired man glared at the three men dressed as dragon slayers who   
stood before him.   
  
"I'm not letting you kill my friends," he snarled, meanwhile wondering which one of the   
two travelers had been the dragon lord they searched for. Ah, no matter. He would defend his new   
friends until the end. With that thought, he flourished his dirk, its blade glinting ominously in   
the dimly lighted room's glow.   
  
"Stand aside, boy," drawled one of the men impatiently, his tiger-blue eyes cold and   
dangerous as he shifted his grip on his own drawn blades, two deadly looking swords. "Dragon   
lords are monsters, savage beasts. We're merely doing our jobs. Stand aside." Kento smirked   
coldly, crouching into a familiar fighter's stance.   
  
"Never," he said, and the three men closed in on him, their eyes icy and impersonal.   
  
  
"Are you all right, milord?" Trowa called from behind Trunks, his voice sounding worried.   
Even from his position behind the dragon lord, the servant could see the crimson blood that   
stained his lord's tattered clothes.   
  
Trunks's breathing was harsh and labored. "I'll... be fine... Just keep... running!" Even though   
Trowa disbelieved his lord's words, the servant had never disobeyed an order, and so continued to   
run.   
  
  
They had been running for a while. That was all Trunks's mind processed before he collapsed in a   
heap onto the forest's soft floor, his head spinning from loss of blood.   
  
"Milord!" Trowa was there in an instant, kneeling down beside the young man, looking   
worried. Trunks managed a small smile, feeling the soft, soothing feel of moss beneath him.   
  
"I'm... fine," he breathed, before his eyes fluttered close, and the dragon lord lay   
still. Trowa looked around in panic. He was no healer, and he saw nothing to stop the heavy   
bleeding. Plus, Trunks had already lost too much blood...  
  
With a sudden decision, Trowa rose to his feet, his emerald gaze making sure that the dragon lord   
was truly and completely unconscious. Then he threw back his head and did something he hadn't   
done in the eight years he had been in servitude to Lord Trunks.   
  
He used the magic that flowed within his veins, and spoke to the animals.   
  
"Animals of the forest!" he cried with the tongue of all beasts. "Hear my plea! My   
companion lies hurt, and I have need of one who heals! Help me, for I am a friend of all beasts,   
and my injured companion is a dragon lord who is hunted as many of you are! Beasts of the forest   
please help!" Trowa fell silent, and waited for a reply that could spell life or death for his   
lord. 


	2. The Hermit Healer

(Author's Notes: Thank you for complimenting the storyteller. He appreciates your feedback, so please remember to tell him that you enjoy this tale he's weaving! He also states that he hopes you enjoy this part of the tale...)  
  
Hunting The Dragon  
  
Chapter Two: The Hermit Healer  
  
Trowa's calls were left unanswered for a long moment. Then another. As the seconds dragged on, the animal mage felt his hope begin to diminish. He bowed his head, and was silent.   
  
Just as he lowered his chin, a thin, long wail shattered the silence, making the servant jump. He looked northward, his emerald green eyes lighting up as the wolf howled a reply to his summons. The wolf would be at the clearing soon. After the wolf had finished, other creatures began to answer. Trowa listened to their whistles, chirps, barks, hisses, and howls.   
  
And smiled.   
  
Within the next few minutes, the wolf bounded into the clearing, bright sunlight making his thin form seeming like a enormous molten golden bullet as he collapsed silently before the animal mage, his thin sides heaving as he panted.   
  
"Greetings, child of the moon," Trowa said, once the wolf had caught his breath.  
The wolf's unusual eyes, an odd, eerie lavender, met his evenly. "How goes the never-ending hunt?"  
  
"Greetings yourself, Mage of the People," replied the wolf. "The hunt goes well for others, though not for myself." Trowa eyed the wolf's skeletal form, and could see the ribs poking from the golden fur. Privately, the animal mage agreed with the wolf's words, but instead he spoke words of concern.  
  
"I am sorry to hear that, brother of the night." The wolf sat up, his bright red tongue slipping from his mouth as he looked down at Trunks's unconscious form.  
  
"This is the dragon lord?" he questioned slowly, his tail slowly beginning to tap against the earth, sending puffs of dirt into the air. Trowa nodded.   
  
"That is he. We have been chased for many months by dragon slayers." The wolf's tail stopped tapping instantly, and his entire golden form stiffened as he growled in rage.   
  
"A dragon lord, hunted? When have humans ever been so foolish?" was his growl as his fur bristled. Trowa was surprised. A normal wolf never called humans by their true name, only two footers or sons of knowledge.   
  
Nevertheless, he replied with a quiet, "I know not, moon-child." Composing himself, the wolf growled something rather profane, then settled down beside Trunks's still form.   
  
"I will watch over him for you, Mage of the People," he stated firmly, his now calm, violet eyes watching the dragon lord's face. "A hermit's home is a few minute's walk from where I came. Tell him at once that the Gold Wolf sent you, and that your injured friend is a dragon lord. Otherwise, he will not help you. Go. I can, and will, protect him." When Trowa hesitated, the wolf added firmly, "I'll protect him with my life, People Speaker. Now go!" Still the animal mage hesitated, staring down at his lord's unconscious body, not wanting to leave his noble- his friend behind, even though he knew the wolf and the other beasts of the forest would protect him by responding to the animal mage's plea.  
  
"Call me Trowa," he finally said, and fled in the direction the wolf had come from, running as fast as his feet could take him.   
  
Trowa arrived at the hermit's rather large residence for a recluse such as the healer, completely winded. For a moment, he simply doubled over, gasping for breath, before staggering towards the door. Reaching out with a trembling hand, he knocked, beads of sweat trickling down his pale visage. After a long pause, the door swung wide to reveal an unsmiling face.   
  
"What does ye want with me?" The recluse's voice was deep and husky, with an accent the animal mage couldn't place.  
  
"My name is Trowa, or rather, Trowa of the People, the Animal Mage. The Gold Wolf sent me. My friend, Trunks the Dragon Lord, lies injured in your woods." All of that was said in one breath, the mage still red-faced from running.   
  
The hermit was silent for a moment, his face unreadable as a strand of crimson fell in front of his light blue eyes. At last, he stepped into the sunlight, holding a leather bag in his enormous hands.   
  
"I be Juroku," the recluse stated simply. "Take me to thine friend."   
  
Gladly, Trowa obeyed.   
  
After a long amount of time and an enormous quantity of precious herbs, the healer looked up from Trunks's still form, looking serious.   
  
"He'll live. But he must stay with me at my cottage."   
  
"Then I'm staying with you," was the firm, controlled reply from the animal mage.   
  
The wolf rose from his crouch at the dragon lord's feet, his eerie eyes glowing. "As will I."   
  
"I'm not sure if he'll have anything for you to sleep on," Trowa commented, half smiling. Juroku raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. To his embarrassment, the animal mage blushed.   
  
"I can speak to animals," he explained. Immediately, the hermit's bright blue eyes lit up with an inner fire.   
  
"You speak to Gold Wolf?" he questioned, his deep, faltering voice childishly eager. Trowa nodded, and a broad smile found its way onto the healer's normally serious face. "Then you be welcome, beast mage."   
  
"Is it all right if Gold Wolf stays too?"   
  
"Anything he wants, he shall get," was the firm reply, and if possible, both Gold Wolf and Trowa smiled.   
  
"Then let us be off." Without another word, Juroku easily lifted Trunks's prone form with his large arms, and they walked slowly back to the hermit's cottage.   
  
  
"Damn!" The leader of the dragon slayers exploded with fury, his tiger-blue eyes blazing. "We lost them! And all because of that foolish bouncer!"   
  
"I'm glad we showed him," snarled one of the other slayers, his obsidian eyes slightly gleeful.   
  
"Come on, Ryo. They can't hide from us for long," the last of the trio consoled him, his pale blond, almost white locks framing his angelic face as he frowned.   
  
The leader sighed, his shoulders slumping. "I guess you're right. Let's go."   
  
Without another word, the three disappeared from the remains of what had used to be Trunks and Trowa's room into the horizon.  



	3. Visitors In Evening

Hunting The Dragon  
  
Chapter Three: Visitors In Evening  
  
Two months later-  
  
"Mage!" Trowa looked up to see Juroku looking seriously at him, his face pale in the flickering fireplace's light, for it was not quite dawn.  
  
"Yes?" the servant replied, setting aside Trunks's sword, which he had been polishing.  
  
"Somethin' be wrong wi' Gold Wolf." Eyes narrowing, Trowa immediately stood, sliding the sword into its sheath.  
  
"Where?" Neither one for words, the two hurried from the cabin.  
  
Gold Wolf had filled out slightly in the months that they had been at the hermit's abode, but he was still very lean, something that was quite obvious when the golden-furred wolf was panting for breath. Trowa knelt beside the beast.  
  
"What's wrong?" he inquired, for he could see no injury on the wolf.  
  
"Three armed men, coming this way.. They were talking about the Dragon Lord," the wolf explained, his whines sounding exhausted, for he had raced from the very edge of the forest to the cabin.  
  
Trowa's face whitened. "The Hunters.."  
  
"Trowa?" The servant looked up to see the dragon lord leaning against the door's frame, pale blue eyes focused on him. "What did you say?"  
  
"We have to go. The Hunters have finally caught up with us." Now it was Trunks' turn to blanch. The dragon lord managed to stand on his own, and reached for a sword at his waist.  
  
.The same sword that Trowa was still holding. Looking apologetic, the animal mage slipped the blade into the sheath at Trunks' side and spoke to Juroku. "We'll leave as soon as possible. If the Hunters come to your door, tell them that we stayed at your home for two or three days a week ago, but that we didn't tell you anything about us."  
  
"I'm coming with you." The words of Gold Wolf took Trowa by surprise, and the brown-haired man jerked his head towards the beast, green eyes wide.  
  
"Excuse me?" He wasn't sure he had heard correctly.  
  
"I'm coming with you. I have.business to attend to, outside this forest. It would be safer for me to travel with someone who can understand me and tell people I won't eat them."  
  
Trowa gazed at Gold Wolf for a long moment before shaking his head and sighing. "Very well, you may accompany us if it will make your journey safer."  
  
"He's coming with us?" The animal mage couldn't tell if Trunks was amused at the prospect or annoyed. "Well, I suppose that ruins any chance of us not attracting attention in towns. Oh well." The dragon lord moved to reenter the abode, and stumbled, Trowa swiftly moving to his side to steady him.  
  
Although dragon lords heal faster than humans, Trunks had never been hunted before, and the toil was telling on the handsome lavender-haired youth. There was still a grayish undertone to his flesh, and he slept more hours than he was actually awake. The two months had done him well, however, and all of his wounds from the shards of glass had healed completely a week before.  
  
"You be makin' sure he takes his 'erbs?" Juroku inquired gruffly, managing to hide his sorrow that the visitors had to leave. Despite being a hermit, he had enjoyed the company, and was sore to see them go.  
  
"Of course," Trowa assured the hermit as he accepted a bundle of freshly picked herbs. "I'll make sure he doesn't miss a single dosage." As Juroku and Trunks watched, Trowa entered the small cabin and came out with two heavy packs that he had prepared just in case something like this happened. However, he hefted them both, ignoring Trunks' request to let him carry one of the packs. Trowa did, however, relent to letting the dragon lord carry the light bundle of herbs.  
  
.  
  
"Fair wanderin's," Juroku called out softly, watching from his doorway as the trio departed, disappearing from view and hopefully in the direction of a much safer place. Sighing, the large man entered his cabin, his very empty cabin, and watched for the Hunters to arrive.  
  
That evening, they did, storming into his cabin without even a knock. The giant hermit glanced at them for a brief moment before poking his fireplace to get the dry timber burning once more.  
  
"May I 'elp ye, good travelers?" he murmured after a moment, words slow and thoughtful, trying to buy the trio as much time as possible.  
  
The leader of the group, his tiger blue eyes cold, marched forward to glower at the hermit. "We are looking for a dragon lord and a companion of his. Have you seen them?"  
  
"A dragon lord an' 'is companion, ye say? Well, I dunno much 'bou' dragon lords, bu' two travelers passed by 'ere a week 'go, roundabou'. They stayed only a day thou'. One o' them be a dragon lord?"  
  
"Yes, one of them was a dragon lord." The only blonde of the group was polite enough, his bright blue eyes gazing upward at the recluse. The youth smiled brightly, brushing a pale yellow lock away from his face. "Could you point us in the direction they went?"  
  
Juroku couldn't help but smile back; the blonde's grin was infectious. "Lemme think, good sir, I simply waved 'em on.." He paused, trying to buy Trunks and Trowa more time even if it was only a minute or so. Poking idly at the fire, the hermit let a thoughtful frown grace his features before he glanced down at the petite blonde. "North, they 'eaded North."  
  
"Thank you!" The blonde beamed even as one of the brunettes rolled his eyes.  
  
"Quatre, must you befriend everyone we meet?" the dark-eyed young man asked, even as his faint grin betrayed his amusement.  
  
"Of course," Quatre informed him, still smiling. "Allies are always a good thing."  
  
"Goten, Quatre, we've taken enough of the man's time." The leader inclined his head towards Juroku. "Good day to you, sir. May the king look kindly upon you."  
  
"Good day to ye, sir, an' t'all o' ye," Juroku responded, straightening to his full height and gazing at them all with steady blue eyes. "Fair travels."  
  
"Just one thing before we go.. Does the king know of this abundant forest? I would think he'd enjoy hunting the animals of this forest." The leader spoke in a manner that clearly showed he was trying to be polite, but the hermit immediately stiffened, his eyes hardening.  
  
"'unt? There be no 'untin' 'n THIS fores', so I says!" The hermit hadn't met to snap, but the disdain for hunting was obvious in his accented words.  
  
"Don't you give tithes to the king?" the hunter called Goten inquired, his dark eyes wide with surprise.  
  
The hermit frowned at them all, the frown not threatening but unwelcoming. It was clear he didn't consider them welcome guests. "Like I say, your dragon lord an' 'is frien' wen' North."  
  
"You are in the kingdom of Estonia. You must pay tithes to the king, and that includes hides from beasts of this forest." The leader didn't notice the anxious look on the blonde's face or the dangerous glint to Juroku's eyes.  
  
"Git. Out." The hermit came the closest he ever had to sounding angry.  
  
"Ryo, can't we just leave? It's just one forest and he's just one man," Quatre pleaded, cornflower blue eyes flickering between the hermit and the swordsman.  
  
"Come on, Ryo, Quatre's got a point. The hermit isn't bothering anyone, and he just helped us.." The leader frowned at the other two dragon slayers.  
  
"We have a duty to perform," he stated, pride evident in his voice. "The king has ordered us to report anyone not respecting the laws of Estonia."  
  
"Are ye leavin'?"  
  
"No." And with that, the dragon slayer drew one of his blades, the sword gleaming in the fireplace's glow.  
  
(To be continued..) 


	4. Hermit versus Slayer

(Author's Notes: Thank you for the reviews! I hope you enjoy the next chapter of Hunting the Dragon! ~Annclaire)  
  
Hunting the Dragon  
  
Chapter Four: Hermit versus Slayer  
  
Juroku raised his hands in an automatic and defensive gesture. "I ain' gonna figh' ye, sir.. I dun be 'armful t' ye or th' animals o' this fores'."  
  
Ryo didn't lower his blade, his eyes grim. "If you don't give tithes to the king, then you must be brought to justice and go to jail. Come with us without a fight, if you truly are a pacifist like you claim."  
  
"Ryo.. Please." Quatre's plea was ignored once more, but Goten took a step closer to his fellow slayer, attempting a reassuring smile to the blonde and adding onto his call for peace.  
  
"Come on, Ryo. The guy's nice enough, and every minute gives the dragon lord even more of a head start!"  
  
"Be quiet," was the tiger-blue eyed boy's terse reply as he kept a wary eye on the recluse. His gaze was focused completely on the large man, carefully noting the way the hermit shifted uncomfortably as Ryo kept brandishing his weapon.  
  
Juroku had allowed Trowa to keep Trunks' sword at his side because the servant had never flourished it or hoisted it in anger; instead, the animal-speaker had only kept the blade in tip-top condition. Still, the hermit had always been uneasy with a sword in his humble abode, and with the fiery-tempered swordsman pointing the blade at him with intent to use it, Juroku was beginning to hate the weapons even more so than before. So the hermit fidgeted and eyed the blade nervously, wishing for a brief moment that Trunks and Trowa had never come here. The thought was quickly banished by the reminder that it had been Trowa who had helped him speak to and understand Gold Wolf.  
  
"I be stayin' 'ere." Juroku kept his voice as firm as possible, towering over the trio of dragon slayers. "Now gi' out. Please."  
  
"No, you're coming with us. We'll drop you off at the nearest sheriff's office, and he will take you to the palace for your sentence."  
  
"Ryo.." Quatre and Goten whined as one, the latter beginning to pout.  
  
"Listen, you two, King Juunana assigned us to do two jobs. First and foremost: catch and kill the dragon lord abomination. Secondly: apprehend anyone who isn't obeying his laws or King Vegeta's laws when we're in his kingdom," stated Ryo firmly, sheathing his weapon and crossing his arms. "And we're in King Vegeta's realm." He was obviously annoyed with his slayer-mates, and it showed in his petulant frown.  
  
"But this is totally wasting time!" Goten protested, looking stubborn as Quatre nodded agreement.  
  
Ryo's frown deepened into a scowl. "We're going to do our jobs, no matter what you two think! The longer you argue with me, the longer we have to catch up with the dragon lord!"  
  
Juroku decided to keep quiet, realizing that they were all correct. As long as they kept arguing among themselves, they'd never catch up with Trunks and Trowa. He did, however, stiffen when the swordsman drew both of his blades, the identical rapiers gleaming in the firelight.  
  
Ryo stood in a fighter's stance, glancing between his fellow dragon slayers and the hermit, a look of determination on his visage. "We're taking him with us, and that is that."  
  
.  
  
"Are you alright, milord Trunks?" Trowa inquired immediately, as Trunks regained his footing after stumbling over a rock.  
  
"I'm fine," Trunks attempted to reassure his companion, even as Gold Wolf trotted over to stay by the dragon lord's side, a golden protector as they headed towards an unknown destination.  
  
"I wonder what happened to our bouncer friend Kento and Juroku," the animal-speaker couldn't help but wonder out loud, a hint of worry in his words. He knew that all dragon slayers were ruthless, and he didn't want to think about what they would have done to the bouncer and the hermit if the two had tried to stop them from chasing Trunks.  
  
"Well, Juroku would have tried to delay them but not violently, so I'm sure he'll be all right." Trunks didn't add on about Kento, knowing the bouncer would have fought the dragon slayers.and lost.  
  
Gold Wolf glanced between the two of them and whined softly, not understanding who this Kento was but realizing that he had to have been important to the two. The wolf increased his pace a little so that he walked briskly in front of both men, raising his snout to catch at the winds, attempting to latch onto that familiar smell that would mean retribution. Gold Wolf would have his vengeance upon the magician who had so drastically altered his life. The wolf couldn't wait for that day.  
  
He was so busy plotting his revenge that he didn't notice the curious looks Trowa kept flitting towards him, for the animal speaker was beginning to get an odd feeling in his belly about this gold wolf, an odd feeling that the gold wolf was not what he seemed.  
  
.  
  
"You know, sometimes you really bug me, Ryo," Goten grumbled, glancing over at a now-miserable Quatre. The blonde definitely befriended people too easily, the brunet decided, as those cornflower blue eyes filled with tears as the pale dragon slayer took a step closer to the now bound hermit.  
  
"I'm sorry," Quatre murmured softly, completely distressed over these horrible turn of events.  
  
Juroku offered him a slow, gentle smile. "Ye ain' 'urtin' th' fores', so's why be ye apologizin'?"  
  
"Be.because now you have to go to jail, and I like you and this forest is too pretty to be hunted in," the blonde whispered, very miserable despite Goten's soft touch upon his shoulder.  
  
"He'll be fine. King Vegeta won't be too harsh with him. He might be annoyed, but everyone knows hermits are odd and can't really be blamed for their lack of common sense."  
  
Blue eyes looked sternly at the brunet as Juroku spoke up, defending himself, "I 'ave common sense, boy.. Th' fores' be my 'ome, an' th' animals be my neighbors. Ye dun 'unt yer neighbors do ye?"  
  
As Goten blinked and attempted to comprehend the accented words, Quatre managed a watery smile at the tethered man. "I think I'll 'lose' the directions to your forest, so King Vegeta won't be able to find it.."  
  
Juroku's smile widened and he bobbed his head. "My thanks fer tha', good sir."  
  
"I'll just pretend I didn't hear that plot," Goten commented, shaking his head a little before giving Quatre's shoulder a quick pat. Smiling at the blonde, the dragon slayer stepped up his pace to walk by Ryo's side in an attempt to distract the other brunet.  
  
"So, you actually saw the dragon lord and his companion?" Quatre said once Goten had successfully annoyed the swordsman enough to get him to argue, thereby diverting his attention from the huge hermit and the small slayer.  
  
"Aye.." It was only then that Juroku remembered his lie, so he added, "'f only fer a few minutes.."  
  
"What do they look like? All Goten, Ryo, and I know about them is that one's a dragon lord." The blonde's curiosity was evident.  
  
Juroku didn't really see what the harm could be in telling Quatre what the duo looked like. "Well, one be lavender-'aired, with real blue eyes tha' were kind o' nervous like. 'e be tall with a sword. The other be brown-'aired, with deep green eyes. 'is 'air be kind o' funny lookin'. I dun know 'ow t'talk 'bou' 'is 'air." The gentle giant raised his shoulders in a light shrug. "They were both real polite though."  
  
"Right." The blonde's tone was almost dismissive, but somehow Quatre's very voice was too kind to sound completely trivializing.  
  
"'f ye dun e'en know wha' the dragon lord and 'is friend look like, 'ow kin ye track them?"  
  
"Goten's a Seeker."  
  
Juroku's eyes flickered between the blonde and the aforementioned brunet, who had just smacked Ryo over the head and was now running in circles as the swordsman chased after him. "A Seeker?"  
  
"It's a type of human who can find any type of creature that he's told about. Once he's found that type of creature, he will track that one individual to the ends of the world or until the death of the creature. In this case, it's the dragon lord. We've been finding dragon lords for the last couple of years, but this one's been giving us the most trouble."  
  
Juroku couldn't understand the blonde's matter-of-fact tone. "The dragon lord was so polite.. Why be ye 'untin' 'im?"  
  
"Dragon lords may seem polite, but when push comes to shove, they're dragons, and they're monsters. They'll kill you once you've outlived your usefulness."  
  
"Really? Ye mean ye 'unt because 't be the righ' thin' to do, no' because o' th' grand ruby?" The hermit's tone barely betrayed his skepticism, but the blonde stiffened.  
  
"I.." Quatre trailed off, a dozen emotions contorting his face for a few brief seconds before he shook his head, his pale locks falling in front of his pale, cornflower blue eyes. "They're monsters," he said stubbornly before he moved forward to pull Ryo off Goten, for the swordsman had caught the goof and had been tugging on his ear unmercifully, oblivious to the other brunet's yelps.  
  
Juroku glanced down at his tethered hands and bit back a sigh, following behind the horse that his tether was linked to. The mare whinnied softly, nudging him in a reassuring gesture as she continued to meander after the trio of dragon slayers, leading the hermit onto an unknown destination.  
  
(To be continued..) 


End file.
